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Photo by Jannik Kiel on Unsplash

Above walls and wires,
as the clouds leave
and the blue skies can be seen,
the air seems fresh and pure
finally very clean.
Yet in my soul there is turmoil and pain.
There doesn’t seem to be any cure;
it can’t be washed away by rain.
It comes from leaving my family behind,
from living my life with a one-track mind.
Now behind barbed wire and concrete
is where I stay —
no more going to the park to watch
my children play.
I miss the nights when I would 
put them to sleep.
All I have now are memories
and the tears that I weep.

Disclaimer: The views in this article are those of the author. Prison Journalism Project has verified the writer’s identity and basic facts such as the names of institutions mentioned.

Robert M. is a Mexican-Irish writer incarcerated in California.